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The Shark

Lord Alfred Douglas
A treacherous monster is the Shark 
He never makes the least remark.

And when he sees you on the sand, 
He doesn't seem to want to land.

He watches you take off your clothes, 
And not the least excitement shows.

His eyes do not grow bright or roll, 
He has astonishing self-control.

He waits till you are quite undressed, 
And seems to take no interest.

And when towards the sea you leap, 
He looks as if he were asleep.

But when you once get in his range, 
His whole demeanour seems to change.

He throws his body right about, 
And his true character comes out.

It's no use crying or appealing, 
He seems to lose all decent feeling.

After this warning you will wish 
To keep clear of this treacherous fish.

His back is black, his stomach white, 
He has a very dangerous bite.

Lord Alfred Douglas

by this poet

poem
Last night unto my bed bethought there came 
Our lady of strange dreams, and from an urn 
She poured live fire, so that mine eyes did burn 
At the sight of it.  Anon the floating fame 
Took many shapes, and one cried: "I am shame 
That walks with Love, I am most wise to turn 
Cold lips and limbs to fire;
poem
I dreamed I stood upon a little hill, 
And at my feet there lay a ground, that seemed 
Like a waste garden, flowering at its will 
With buds and blossoms. There were pools that dreamed 
Black and unruffled; there were white lilies 
A few, and crocuses, and violets 
Purple or pale, snake-like fritillaries 
Scarce